Grave of Genshūin-dono (Mukade-hime's Grave)

Tomb of Lady O-Take, wife of Lord Nanbu Toshinao

About

In the heart of Morioka, where the whispers of history intertwine with the rustling leaves, there lies a path less trodden, leading to a tale etched in stone and shadow. As one meanders through the serene streets, the air grows thick with the scent of ancient pines and the distant murmur of a city that has long since embraced its legends.

Nestled within this tranquil enclave stands a solemn monument, a towering stone edifice reaching skyward, its surface weathered by time and the elements. This is the resting place of Lady Otake, known in hushed tones as the "Centipede Princess." Her story, woven into the fabric of local lore, speaks of valor, mystery, and the delicate balance between reverence and fear.

Lady Otake, born into the esteemed lineage of the Gamō family, was a woman of grace and fortitude. When she wed Lord Toshinao, the 27th head of the Nanbu clan, she brought with her a relic of profound significance—a spearhead said to have been used by her ancestor, Fujiwara no Hidesato, in the legendary slaying of a monstrous centipede. This artifact, steeped in myth, was believed to harbor the spirit of the vanquished creature, a symbol of protection and strength.

Yet, as fate would weave its intricate tapestry, upon Lady Otake's passing, unsettling occurrences began to unfold. It is said that her body bore markings reminiscent of a centipede's sinuous form, a sight that sent shivers through the hearts of those who bore witness. The townsfolk whispered of the centipede's curse, its vengeance unfurling from beyond the grave.

In an effort to quell the growing unease, Lord Toshinao ordered the construction of a moat encircling her tomb, believing that the water would deter the centipede's spirit, for it was known that such creatures abhorred the touch of water. A bridge was erected to span the moat, a pathway for mourners to pay their respects. Yet, with each dawn, the bridge lay in ruins, as if unseen forces conspired against its existence. Time and again, the structure was rebuilt, only to succumb to the same mysterious fate.

The legend deepened as tales emerged of Lady Otake's hair transforming into serpents, each bearing a single, unblinking eye, slithering through the crevices of the stonework. The grave became a nexus of supernatural occurrences, a place where the veil between worlds seemed perilously thin.

Today, the monument stands as a testament to this enigmatic past. The stone tower, approximately three meters in height, is adorned with intricate carvings, each telling a fragment of the tale. Moss clings to its base, a verdant reminder of nature's reclaiming embrace. The surrounding area is hushed, as if the very earth holds its breath in deference to the legend.

Visitors who find their way to this secluded site often speak of an inexplicable sensation—a tingling at the nape of the neck, a fleeting shadow at the edge of vision. Whether these are mere tricks of the mind or echoes of the past, the atmosphere is undeniably charged with the weight of history and the power of storytelling.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting elongated shadows that dance upon the stone, one cannot help but feel the presence of Lady Otake, the Centipede Princess, her story immortalized in the whispers of the wind and the silent vigil of her enduring monument.